The Sniffles
by crimson-obsidian-rose
Summary: When two of his younger colonies gets sick, imperialist!England finds his paternal instincts coming out. Full of familial fluff guaranteed to make you smile


Hiya~ This fic was written for tanya_tsuki's birthday last week, and it starts the British Empire and some of the more forgotten young colonies. I wanted this to be a little different from most British Empire stories out there, and so I hope you all like it!!

Disclaimer: I do now own Axis Powers Hetalia

* * *

The Sniffles

The first hint that something was not right in the household of the British Empire was that it was quiet. Too quiet, especially since the sun had already risen (over England itself, that is. The Empire as a whole was always bathed in sunlight).

At first England rested a few moments longer in his bed, trying to listen for the sounds of shuffling he would often wake to. Nothing coming from the kitchen, where Canada would no doubt have rushed to the moment he awoke. Nothing from the washroom either, nor from the hallways nor anywhere else.

His thick blond eyebrows furrowed as he kicked off his covers, mind already rushing to the worst case scenarios. They could be trying to fool him, or else they might have all left his house before the sun rose; either way, it wasn't going to be pretty.

So he started to quietly make his way down the halls of his large house, being sure to keep a watchful eye out for miscellaneous fireworks. The first of his colonies' rooms that he came across was that of Seychelles, which England found completely empty. He'd been expecting as much, of course, but what he had him confused was that the quilted comforter was as gone as the girl was.

The next bedroom was Hong Kong's, which somehow always managed to contain i_something_/i from China, despite England's best efforts against it. This time the room contained a red and golden wall decoration that bore some character England could not understand, and honestly did not care too either, but what it did not contain was his young charge.

Sighing, England shut the door to this room and moved down the halls. He passed the rooms of Australia, India, and New Zealand, knowing they were not in this house, but in their own homes. He did, however, pause when he got to the room that had been shared by the North American twins but now belonged solely to Canada; from outside he could hear rough, unintelligible whispering and... coughs?

"Canada?" The door opened quickly, and England found himself faced with a rather odd scene.

Since the room had originally been meant for America and Canada to share, seeing as how they both had trouble sleeping alone when they came to his home, it held two twin beds. Even though it had been decades since America had even been in England's house at all, no one had bothered to remove the second bed, since it was obvious that Canada did not mind it, and so there is remained, completely out of use.

Until now, that is, because not only was Canada's bed occupied, but so was the bed formerly known as America's. England could not see who exactly were bundled under those covers, but the fact that Canada was hovering over one of the beds, and that Seychelles' quilt was resting over one of the lumps, served as pretty good hints.

Canada, upon being addressed, turned around suddenly.

"O-Oh, England," he started, pushing his sliding glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. "Good morning."

"What exactly is going on in here?"

A set of coughs came from the bed Canada was standing over, and from the other bed Seychelles' tired voice rang, "_Je me sens malade_."

England sighed, and found he was unable to himself. "In English, please."

"Sick, daddy, sick." She moaned, and England could not help but feel the slightest bit of guilt. He strode up to the bed and pressed a hand to the little girl's forehead; she was warm, her cheeks were flushed, and a touch to her neck revealed a swollen throat. England was no doctor, but it was evident that she had an infection of some sort.

Looking up to the other bed, he was not at all surprised to see that it was Hong Kong, sleeping like the dead expect for his raspy breaths and occasionally coughing fits. Turning back to Seychelles and smoothing some of her sweaty hair away from her face, he addressed the eldest of the colonies.

"Canada, care to shed some light on the situation?"

"Um, in the middle of the night Seychelles knocked on my door. She was… crying. And when she told me she was sick, I thought maybe I could take care of her, so that we wouldn't have to wake you up-"

Canada trailed off, noticing that England looked like he wanted to say something. When he didn't, Canada continued.

"A-and then we heard Hong Kong coughing a little later, so I brought him here too so I could watch him. But both of them got really feverish, and adding covers didn't work, and I don't know what else to do."

Canada was toeing the hardwood floor nervously, but England found he couldn't be mad at the boy. Instead he was wracked with his own guilt; while we was asleep, his young teenaged colony had put himself in charge of two sick children.

Sighing, he ruffled Canada's bangs lightly, forcing a smile to try and comfort him.

"Thank you, Canada. You did a good job. Now, then, would you like to keep helping me out?"

Canada quickly nodded, pushing up his sliding glasses once more.

"What do you need me to do?"

* * *

A few hours later found England still in the room, sunlight streaming in through the windows as the sun was high up in the sky. Both Seychelles and Hong Kong were awake, albeit too sore to move off their warm beds.

England himself was seated in a chair beside Hong Kong's bed, placing a wet cloth gingerly over his scalding hot forehead. The young colony winced at the sudden coldness, but soon relaxed into his pillow and gave England a weak smile. England froze for a moment, taken aback by the unusually gentle gesture. When he recovered, though, he returned the smile and ran a hand carefully through Hong Kong's messy hair.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Seychelles?" He said calmly, rising from his seat and moving over to her bed. Her hair had fallen out of its ribbons and was now tangled all over her pillows, and her usually lovely tan was pale and sickly. Seeing his colonies- no, his _children_ like this, it broke England's heart.

"My throat feels icky." Tears were pooling in her dark eyes, and England found himself wondering how scared she must have felt. Sitting on the edge of her bed, he reached over and ran a careful hand down her arm soothingly.

"I know. Don't worry, you'll be alright. Canada is in the kitchen making soup, and I promise it will make you feel better."

She nodded mutely, coughing a little into her fist and curling into her pillow uncomfortably.

"It's hot." She added, pushing her quilt off her bed and trying to find a cool place on her pillow to rest her head.

"Come here, let me help." England lifted the pillow from beneath her head and turned it over, and when Seychelles rested on it again she sighed in content.

"Thank you." She smiled, and her eyes started to droop. Smiling, England continued to run his hand over her head until she had completely fallen asleep.

Looking up, England found that Hong Kong had been watching them silently, his expression as bored as ever. He had not complained once of his pains the entire day, even though it was obvious that he was suffering as much as Seychelles, something that made England more upset than anything else.

"Hong Kong, how're you doing boy?" He asked carefully, lifting the towel from his head and running it through his sweaty black hair once, before soaking it in the bowl again.

All he got for an answer was a blink.

England sighed, placing the white towel back on Hong Kong's still warm skin.

"I know you dislike me," he started, pursing his lips a bit. "But… I want you to know that you can trust me. Regardless of where you came from or anything, so long as you're a part of the British Empire…"

He could feel the conversation getting awkward, and was a bit grateful that Hong Kong was sick and could therefore not walk away or throw something at him. Instead the boy was giving him a look halfway between confusion and sleepiness that proved he was listening, at least.

Sighing, England decided he would just finish. Even if it was sappy, or overly emotional, it needed to be said.

"So long as you're a part of the British Empire, I promise to look out for you and take care of you. But I cannot do if you refuse to tell me what's bothering you."

Hong Kong squirmed a bit under his covers, before fixing his gaze on the wall beside him, opposite to England.

"I'm sick."

England sighed softly in relief, and ruffled his hair.

"I know, Hong Kong. But you're going to be fine."

* * *

Canada had come into the room only five minutes after that to inform England that the soup was ready, but by that time Hong Kong had followed Seychelles' lead and both children were sleeping as soundly as they could.

"You should go out and get some fresh air, Canada, being cooped up in here will only get you sick as well." England suggested, keeping his post in between the two beds.

Canada shook his head, and the British Empire sighed.

"Don't worry boy, it's not like I intend on ruining your soup while you're out. Now go, before you catch whatever they have."

But Canada only shook his head again, and looked up and England earnestly.

"I-I… want to take care of them, too. They're family too."

A heavy silence fell in the room before, for the first time in far too long, England stood and pulled Canada into a tight hug.

* * *

By the time the next morning rolled around, England found himself being awoken by a happy, boisterous Seychelles. For a moment he was confused, before he realized he had fallen asleep in that same seat.

"Good morning love." He replied as she bounced onto his lip with a grin. "I see you're feeling better."

"I am! And so is Hong Kong!" Apparently so, as his bed was empty. England felt a sudden pang of fear for his belongings, but then realized it was a regular, almost comforting fear. Almost.

"Good," he smiled as well, ruffling her messy brown hair; he would have to brush that for her.

But wait… something still felt wrong.

"Where's Canada?" He asked, suddenly feeling a little alarmed.

"Oh, he's in my room. He's still asleep." She answered, hopping off his lap and tugging on his hand.

When the two had reached Seychelles' room, England was met with the Canadian's meek smile, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. When he overcame it, he looked at England's tired expression and forced a chuckle.

"Well… at least we still have leftover soup?"

_End._

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Canada is so cute. So is Hong Kong. But especially Canada.

Yeah, that's basically all I have to say about this. I love the little guy

Hope you enjoyed~

crimson-obsidian-rose


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